Sunday, January 03, 2010

From "Cleaving"

From Cleaving by Julie Powell.
I knew it would be one of those books. Quoteable. Descriptive. Knowing.

It leads me to drink, too - though not sherry, yet - and to other things, to things that are bad for me, harmful urges succumbed to....One thing I've learned about my inner voice is that it prefers indulging dangerous cravings to the prospect of tamping down those cravings into bitter resignation...
And ~

....Does everyone talk like this, in these codes? I decipher both messages perfectly. One pulls at me with a thousand threads of anxiety and obligation and love and solicitude and guilt; the other with a single knowing yank, the secret gutteral syllable that brings me to heel.

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